


calming each other down from panic attacks is actually something that can be so personal

by Waddles889



Category: Gravity Falls, Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Dipper Pines Needs A Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mabel Pines Needs A Hug, Panic Attacks, Steven Universe Has PTSD - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, i cannot stress enough the hurt/comfort aspect, summer job AU, the demand for this crossover is gone but here it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27054904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waddles889/pseuds/Waddles889
Summary: "It was safe to say Steven was kind of an authority when it came to pinpointing the signs of an oncoming panic attack. However, he wasn’t as used to seeing it in other people."OR3 times Steven, Dipper, and Mabel face the unfortunate consequences of childhood trauma.
Relationships: Dipper Pines & Mabel Pines, Dipper Pines & Steven Universe, Mabel Pines & Steven Universe
Comments: 14
Kudos: 175





	calming each other down from panic attacks is actually something that can be so personal

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote part of this way back in like april when the crossover was Big and then i went hey i should finish this instead of doing my homework like 6 months later

Steven knew the signs of a panic attack.

His therapist had explained to him what the symptoms of a panic attack were at his third appointment, giving him tools and exercises to use to help himself out of one. Being someone with a lot of pent up trauma, he used those tools all the time.

It was safe to say Steven was kind of an authority when it came to pinpointing the signs of an oncoming panic attack.

However, he wasn’t as used to seeing it in other people.

Mabel had gone missing an hour ago. Dipper was checking the Shack, so Steven ran into the woods. He found her underneath a tree with her sweater pulled up over her face and over her knees, her backpack laying discarded on the ground next to her.

Steven slowed his pace. “Mabel?”

Mabel shook her head. She sniffed. “Mabel’s in Sweater Town,” she croaked. Her voice was thick and shaky. her hands trembled, even though she was clutching her sleeves so tightly her knuckles were white.

Steven sat next to her. He racked his brain, trying to figure out anything he could do to help, but he was coming up empty.

Mabel’s breaths were short and shallow. From what Steven could see of her face, which wasn’t much, her skin was shiny with sweat.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. Mabel shook her head profusely, shivering as if a chill had just shot down her spine.

Oh.

Steven turned to face her. “Mabel, I think you’re having a panic attack. I can help, but I need you to listen. Can you do that?”

Mabel hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

“Okay, try to breathe with my counts. In, two, three, four, hold, two, three, four, and out, two, three, four.”

Steven repeated the cycle. Mabel’s breaths didn’t change, but Steven didn’t stop counting. This would probably take a while.

He found himself counting for what felt like at least ten minutes until Mabel’s body shuddered as she sucked in a deep breath. Good. That meant they were partly there.

Mabel kept breathing. Steven kept counting.

Finally, Mabel managed to breathe in tandem with Steven’s counts. They repeated this a few more times until Steven was certain she could keep her breath steady.

She pulled her sweater away from her face. Strands of hair were plastered to her forehead with sweat and her eyes were rimmed with red. Tear tracks stained her face.

“How’d you know what to do?” she whispered.

Steven looked away. “That happens to me a lot,” he said, careful to keep his voice level. “I learned a lot of ways to deal with them.”

Mabel scrubbed at her eyes. “It felt like I was going to die,” she said. “That sucked.”

Despite himself, Steven smiled. “I know what that’s like,” he murmured.

Mabel looked at her surroundings. It seemed just like any other part of the forest to Steven, with its towering pine trees and coarse grass and the occasional gnome, but as Mabel’s gaze fell to her backpack, it was clear that this clearing had some significance to her.

“This part of the woods is where I started the apocalypse,” she said.

Steven did not press her for details.

~~~

Something had freaked Dipper out.

Steven honestly wasn’t sure what happened. They were in the kitchen talking when Dipper reeled backwards and his gaze went blank.

“Dipper?”

But he didn’t seem to hear him. Dipper’s eyes were wide and his whole body was trembling. Steven couldn’t even tell if he was breathing at all.

Dipper dug his nails into his arms, sinking to the floor. Steven yelped and rushed forward. He grabbed Dipper’s hands and tried to pull them away, but Dipper flinched violently at the contact. Steven backed off.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “How can I help?”

Dipper opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a strangled laugh that dissolved into a sob.

Steven glanced around the kitchen, his heart pounding in his ears. There  _ had _ to be something he could do. If he could help Mabel, he could help Dipper.

Steven pulled off his jacket and shoved it into Dipper’s hands. Dipper froze.

“What does that feel like?” he asked.

Dipper’s breath hitched and he choked on another sob. A fresh round of tears fell.

“What does that feel like?” Steven asked again.

Dipper ran his fingers over the jacket. The tears slowed. “Yours?” he whispered. His voice was barely audible, and it sounded like he had to force his words past a lump in his throat.

“Yes, that’s my jacket. What does it feel like?”

“Soft.”

“What color is it? Can you see?”

“It’s–” Dipper hiccupped and his breath quickened again. Steven inhaled sharply through his teeth. Dipper’s eyes widened. “Bill.”

“Dipper, whatever you’re seeing isn’t real. I’m the only person in here.”

Dipper screwed his eyes shut and shook his head.

“My jacket’s real. What color is it?”

“Pink.”

“Can you see me? What do I look like?”

Dipper squinted. “Curly hair. Flip flops.”

Steven looked down at his footwear. Of course Dipper would find a way to tease him about wearing sandals in Oregon even during a panic attack.

“What’s the floor made of?”

Dipper pulled his nails away from his arms to touch the kitchen floor. “Wood.”

His breathing steadied. His gaze cleared. “Steven?”

Steven smiled. “I’m here.”

Dipper’s eyes welled up again. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Steven took his coat from Dipper and draped it over his shoulders like a blanket. Dipper pulled it tighter around himself. 

“Thanks,” he said. Steven hummed.

~~~

“Steven, restock those shelves, would ya? The box has been sitting out for twenty minutes.”

“On it, Mr. Pines!” Steven leaned his broom against the wall and hefted the cardboard box into his arms. It was a little heavier than expected. He shifted it onto his hip and started placing its contents on the shelf.

Wendy whistled from the counter. “I am looking respectfully,” she said. Steven glanced up at her, bemused. She cocked an eyebrow.

Steven glanced at himself. He had his jacket tied around his waist (it got really hot in the summer here), so his arms were on display. A blush crept over his cheeks. “Wendy!”

Wendy turned back to her magazine. “I said  _ respectfully,” _ she said.

Steven chuckled and resumed stacking items on the shelf. It was the typical Mystery Shack merch: bobbleheads, keychains, glass prisms, and the occasional mystery box. 

Stan watched from his spot against the wall, rolling his 8-ball cane back and forth between his hands. “If those kids aren’t back by eight, I swear–”

“Ah, don’t worry Stan. They’re smart, they’ll be fine,” Wendy said.

“I never said I was  _ worried _ about them. I was just gonna say they’re gonna have to eat dinner on their own.”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

“I can cut your pay, you know.”

“No, you can’t. Soos is my boss now, technically.”

Steven smiled to himself. He liked listening to the Mystery Shack banter. He wondered if it was at all like how Lars and Sadie interacted at the Big Donut, back when they were still working there.

Eh, probably not. Lars used to be way meaner to Sadie than Wendy was to Mr. Pines.

The door slammed open.

Stan yelped, Wendy jumped, and Steven flinched. He fumbled with the glass prism, trying to catch it before it could fall, but it slipped out of his fingers.

The prism shattered on impact.

Steven froze.

“Oh, sorry Steven!” Mabel said. She had a hand on the front counter, leaning over as she fought to catch her breath. Dipper winced apologetically, picking leaves out of his hair.

“Where’d you guys get off to?” Wendy asked.

Dipper pulled out his journal, the blue one with the pine tree on the front, and flipped to a page near the middle. He showed it to Wendy, likely explaining  _ something, _ but Steven couldn’t hear it.

He couldn’t– he blinked, hard, staring at the wreckage on the floor.

Glass shards had scattered everywhere, sent flying across the room the second the prism had exploded. Steven’s stomach dropped. A headache pulsed behind his eyes.

“–ven?”

He knew it wasn’t her. He  _ knew _ it was just glass. But–

It’s all he could think about.

Steven’s breath hitched. He felt like he was going to be sick.

“–kid, I’m not mad if that’s what you’re worried about,” Stan said. Steven blinked and looked up. Stan was standing in front of him (when did he walk over?), hands hovering around Steven’s shoulders like he wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to touch him. 

A wave of nausea rolled in Steven’s gut. He twisted out of Stan’s reach, stumbling backward. Glass crunched underneath his shoes, sending another jolt of guilt through him. His hand caught the wall and he felt around beneath him until he found the door frame.

“What’s– kid, what’s going on?” Stan asked. He looked– he looked  _ worried.  _ For real. Actually  _ worried. _

_ Not again. _

Steven turned on his heel and bolted out of the room.

He didn’t know where he was going until he found himself dry heaving in the bathroom. 

_ This is a panic attack, _ he thought vaguely. This is something he should know how to deal with. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force himself to breathe, but his stupid lungs wouldn’t listen and he was stuck hyperventilating, images of that night flashing in his mind.

It wasn’t real, she was  _ fine, _ it was  _ just glass. _

Someone knocked on the door.

Pink light flooded the room.

“Steven?” It was Mabel. “Um.. are you having a… you said you get panic attacks a lot, so, um. Are you okay?”

Something clicked, and Steven sucked in a deep breath. His vision went fuzzy at the sudden intake of oxygen.

“I’m” –Steven coughed– “fine.”

“Uh, no offense dude, but you are  _ not _ fine.” That was Dipper.

Steven clutched his jacket, balling the fabric into his fists. He didn’t want to bring them into this. They already had enough to deal with on their own, and judging from what he had heard about last summer, it was intense. He was in no hurry to introduce these thirteen year olds to the extensive world of Steven’s trauma. That was the entire thing he’s been trying to  _ avoid. _

“No, I’m not,” he agreed. “But I don’t– I don’t want you to have to– to have to deal with  _ my _ issues. That’s  _ my _ problem.”

The door handle jiggled. Steven willed it not to unlock.

“You helped  _ us _ out!” Mabel said. “We want to help  _ you!” _

“You’re  _ kids!  _ It’s not your responsibility to deal with  _ my problems!” _ Steven snapped. After all, isn’t that what caused all of this in the first place? Having to clean up other people’s messes? He was  _ not _ putting anyone else through that. Mabel and Dipper didn’t need to play therapist when he already had a real one.

“Look, kid.”

Steven jerked his head to the door in surprise.

“You may not want help right now, but the best we can do is offer. If you want to be alone, just say the word,” Stan said.

Steven glared at the floor. The tiles refracted his pink glow, though it was starting to fade. He sighed.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” he whispered. “You guys have enough to deal with already.”

Stan laughed: short, loud, and biting. “The only burden around here is that dumb statue of that triangle out back. The little isosceles monster tries to take over the world and has the audacity to become a tourist attraction just far enough away that it makes my knees hurt?”

Steven couldn’t even begin to parse whatever  _ that _ meant.

“Anyway, the point I’m trying to make is no one’s a–” Stan cleared his throat. “Sentimentality makes my chest burn.”

“Don’t let him fool you, he’s a sap,” Mabel said. Stan shushed her.

“If you want us to help you, then we want to help you,” Dipper said.

Steven sighed. The hostility drained out of him and he let his shoulders slump forward. He rests his forehead against the bathroom cabinet.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

The lock popped open. Light from the hallway spilled in, and Steven winced, turning away.

Mabel sat on the floor next to him.

“You’re glowing,” Dipper said.

“And pink.”

“Yeah, I do that sometimes,” Steven said. He forced himself to look up at them.

Their expressions were soft, full of worry, but mostly they looked glad to see he was… well, he wasn’t currently losing the battle for steady breath anymore, at least. 

Steven’s pink glow faded completely. He wiped any remaining tears off of his face and started to stand up, albeit a bit shakily.

“Woah, kid, what are you doing?”

“I’m gonna clean up the glass,” he said.

“Don’t worry about that! Soos already has it covered,” Mabel said. She tugged on his sleeve. “Come on, Wendy’s making hot chocolate. You need some serious decompression time.”

Steven spluttered. “I– huh?”

Dipper patted his arm reassuringly. “Trust me, when Mabel’s determined to cheer someone up, it happens. You just gotta roll with it.”

And that’s how Steven found himself sitting in the Mystery Shack kitchen with a blanket draped around his shoulders and a mug of hot chocolate shoved into his hands. He took a sip and smiled.

“Uh, thanks,” he said.

“No sweat, dude. Stuff happens,” Wendy said with a shrug. “I gotta head out, but you can text me whenever.”

Steven nodded. He looked at Mabel and Dipper, sitting on the other side of the table. “Why don’t you tell me about your adventure?”

Dipper’s eyes lit up. “Uh, sure! If you want to hear it!”

Steven nodded again. Dipper scrambled to pull his blue journal out, opening it to a drawing of a large moth. It was pretty impressive, he had to admit.

“That’s a pretty impressive drawing,” he said.

Dipper’s face flushed. “Wow, uh, really? Thanks!”

Mabel grinned. “The actual thing is super big. It’s like, the size of two houses!”

“More like the size of a horse.”

_ “Three _ houses!”

Steven cracked a smile, taking another sip of his cocoa. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Feeling better?” Stan asked.

“Yeah, thanks Mr. Pines.”

“Good, cause that glass prism’s coming out of your next paycheck.”

Steven snorted into his cup. “Sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> hehe


End file.
